


Brothers

by NevLongbottom_Forever



Category: Ramayana
Genre: Extramarital Affair, Incest, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-06 11:07:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11599362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NevLongbottom_Forever/pseuds/NevLongbottom_Forever
Summary: Rama ponders over his and his brothers' relationship





	Brothers

**Author's Note:**

> So, as the tags say, this is a Rama/Lakshmana fic. I am not here to offend your sensibilities, this is a fandom where people can write, and if you are against my storyline, which has incest and slash, you are welcome to leave. Thanks.

_It is perhaps the truth that emotions are much more difficult to decipher than action. The world sees us as brothers, as father and sons, yet the truth- the truth is unfathomable except to those who hold us in great esteem, who have gained the right to know, and to feel._

_They are my brothers by birth, but in soul, so much more. They are my heartbeat. My soul. My breath. They are substantial to my very existence. I cannot begin to speak of how I love them. My marriage to the eldest Janaksuta has nothing to do with this. I love her immensely, she is an important part of my life, she is the only woman I have looked at, and the only woman I have needed._

_No, what I seek from Bharata, Lakshmana, and Shatrughna is not a drink to quench the thirst of lust. Nor is it a way to relieve myself after the banishment of my wife. The void she has left me with cannot be fulfilled even by 10 such brothers I may have. She was special to me, in a way that is completely different from what I feel for the three of them._

_Our ‘affair’, so to speak, began when we had not even left the Gurukul, lonely nights spent in reassuring each other we were never going to leave, whispered confessions of our deepest fears and silent displays of affection morphed into sleeplessness as we made love. Yes, I use the word made love, for that was what we did. Made love to each other._

_It was not merely physical, emotions ran far deeper than that. Nothing much changed post our weddings to the princesses of Mithila; they were angels, they understood and supported us, quelling our doubts, stifling our fears and assuring us that their love did not depend on our relationship, and that we would never have to make a choice._

_Sometimes, when I think of how I have had to hide the true nature of the relationship between my brothers and I, I cringe at the hypocrisy of society, the same society that forced me to oust my wife from my kingdom and my life._

_Yet, then, I pause, and seeing the rise and fall of my Bharata’s chest in the moonlight, listening to the gentle, endearing snores of my Shatrughna in the silence, and feeling the breath of my Lakshmana against my chest, the four of us lying in a tangle of limbs, tired, yet content. And that gives me the strength to move on._

_I love my Sita, as they do their wives, and we will continue doing to so unto our last breaths. They have shown us the way, shown us what selfless love is, and sometimes I stop to think if we have been unfair to them. But then again, I daresay the four of us Raghukula Princes are selfish. We crave each other’s togetherness, for without even one of the three of them, my life would not be worth living._

_I see in my sisters as wives who have done all they can to ensure that my relationsh…._

Rama paused in his writing as a soft footstep alerted him to another presence in his chambers. He knew that it could be any of his brothers, yet he knew exactly who that would be. Sure enough, a pair of strong arms wrapped around his neck from behind and a firm jaw was set against the top of his head.

“What are you doing?” Lakshmana’s voice said from above his head. Setting his ink bottle and quill aside, he sighed.

“The usual. What are you doing here? I thought you and Bharata had work?” He drew air quotes around the last work, indicating his skepticism as to the true nature of their work.

“Bhaiyya and Shatrughna had to leave for Magadh,” said Lakshmana, staring at a blot of ink on the table, and absently running his fingers along his brother’s throat, smirking when he felt the tremor of lust run through Rama.

He quickly lifted Rama up, kissing him feverishly, and moved them to the bed, not breaking the kiss. Laying him on the silk sheets, he blew out the candles near the desk, and once again turned his attention to his br- no- lover, whose hands were already fisted in the sheets.

The moon lit up the entire room in a silvery sheen, enhancing the aquiline nose and the strong jaw, the sculpted arms and torso of Rama. At over 60, he still was as beautiful as he had been at 14, the first time he had made love to him.

Goosebumps rose on Rama’s skin as he stared through half-lidded eyes at Lakshmana, whose eyes had dilated from the desire that was palpable between the two men. Lakshmana’s lips captured his own, both moaning unabashedly into the kiss, fumbling fingers tugging at unwanted cloth and shedding the jewelry adorning them both.

He pulled back to stare at Rama. Sweat beads had formed on the dark skin, rolling off his pectoral muscles, making Lakshmana lick his dry lips. He slowly bent, kissing the man’s torso, nipping occasionally, dipping his tongue in the indent of Rama’s navel and abdomen. He was rewarded with the breathy gasps and soft moans that rolled off his brother’s lips.

His hands mapped the body beneath him, caressing in the right places, making Rama arch up in anticipation. A smirk adorned Lakshmana’s handsome features, as he dove at his lover’s lower body, engulfing him in ane stroke.

A loud moan left Rama. Looking up slightly, Lakshmana saw him propped up on his forearm, his free hand tangled in Lakshmana’s unruly curls. His head was thrown back in an obvious sign of pleasure, his breath coming in pants, his Adam’s Apple bobbing as he swallowed.

“Lakshmana..” Rama’s voice was ragged, breathless. He tugged more firmly at his brother’s hair, who gave no sign that he had heard, apart from speeding his ministrations.

Rama fell apart. His arm gave way and he fell onto the pillows, a cry of his brother’s name echoing in the silence of the otherwise still night. Releasing him, Lakshman crept back up, pulling Rama into a deep kiss. Rama moaned, tasting himself on Lakshmana’s lips was driving his head to new levels of incoherent, and turning him on. Again.

He mentally cursed himself. He felt like a teenager whose desires were left unfulfilled, but from the look on his lover’s face, Lakshmana had other ideas. His hips teasingly brushed Rama’s, and he gasped. His fingers dug into Lakshmana’s hips; his mind vaguely told him that there would be tell-tale marks by the morning, but damn if his body cared.

Lakshmana pressed to him, this time in a sure, practiced move. He knew which buttons to push. His hips made slow, measured movements, driving his brother mad with lust, his fingers digging more into his skin. Lakshmana let out a pleasured hiss as Rama’s blunt nails drew blood from his hips.

“Rama,” he said, kissing the man’s chest while continuing to move slowly against him. “I love you love. I love you so very much. You are my first love, and my last. Forever”

“As you are mine,” breathed Rama, suddenly bucking to meet Lakshmana’s hips. The movement proved too much for both of them. Rama followed Lakshmana into ecstatic bliss that lasted for more than a few minutes.

As his erratic breath settled, Lakshmana stared at the sleeping form of his lover, his brother, friend, guide and philosopher. Placing a soft kiss on his forehead, Lakshmana pulled the covers over them both, and laid his head on Rama’s chest, the steady _thump-thump_ of his heart lulling him to sleep.


End file.
